Nobody's Gonna Hurt You: McStarr
by CaptainSlowLovesHisHamster
Summary: Paul comes to Ringo's aid after his step father goes on another drunken rampage. Set before the Beatles so probably around 1958 (AU were Ringo and Paul knew each other before Hamburg)


Paul shivered as he pulled his pack of cigs from his pocket. He stuck them back in his coat pocket and wrapped his arms around himself. Winter had come hard and heavy this year, leaving Liverpool covered in the thickest layer of snow Paul had seen since his mother had died. There was at least a foot of thick, wet snow, and on top of that there was a thin layer of ice that cracked each time Paul took a step onto it. If step was the right word. It was more like an awkward shuffle.

Paul pulled the cigarette away from his mouth to let the smoke roll out between his lips. Along with the smoke came the whiteness of his breath. His lips shuddered, and a shiver racked his frame. The cold made his teeth ache, and he let out a string of curses. Why the fuck was he out here in this weather when he could be home, warm in bed? He thought about turning around, but then he remembered the reason why he had left home in the first place.

Ringo had called him, a sobbing mess. His step father had gotten drunk again, and as usual, had taken his anger out on Ringo. It wasn't unusual for Paul to get calls like the one from Ringo in the middle of the night, but this one was different. He seemed much more desperate, much more afraid. He had literally begged Paul to come over, not that Paul would have said no. Paul's boy was in trouble, and John would do everything he could to take him to safety. (Plus, the call had ended abruptly with a quick "I love you", and then there was a scream and the line went dead. And if that didn't worry Paul, nothing else did.)

Paul saw Ringo's house up in the distance and began to walk a bit faster, but trying not to make any noise. Paul didn't know if Ringo's step dad was still home, or if he had left for the night, like he usually did when he was drunk.

Paul got to the front of the small home, and went to where Ringo's window was. He picked up a few pebbles, and threw them at Ringo's window, like Ringo and instructed him to do. He threw three, and then the window opened, revealing Ringo.

"Paul!", Ringo whispered loudly, "Thank God you're here!Quick, get up here, Dad's leaving' and I don't want him to see you!"

Paul nodded, and climbed his way up to Ringo's window. Ringo helped Paul in, and then quickly closed the window, latching it tightly. Paul stood up and brushed himself off. Ringo wrapped his arms around Paul and placed his head on Paul's chest. Paul hugged him back, not even hesitating.

"Ring-"

"Shh, listen," Ringo said, squeezing Paul a little. Paul listened, and for a moment there was only silence. Then, there was aloud crash and screaming.

"Stop it!", Paul heard Ringo's mother scream.

"Shut the hell up! You're no good, just like that faggot son of yours!" said Ringo's dad, and then Paul heard skin on skin.

"You leave Ritchie alone! You bastard! He's a better man than you'll ever be, even if he is a queer!" Ringo's mom yelled back.

Paul heard Ringo's dad grunt, and then there was a bang.

"Rings, do you want me to go down there?" Paul asked, rubbing Ringo's back soothingly.

"No, No," Ringo said, "He'll kill you, then me, and mum. He thinks, um, he thinks we're together, and if you came down the stairs from my room, he'd kill me, Paul. He'd kill me an' you, I tried fightin' him off earlier but-" Ringo pulled away from Paul and showed him his arms. They were littered in bruises and scratches. It had been obvious that Ringo was too weak to fight off his father, but he'd tried so hard to protect his mother. "Mum sent me up here."

Even though Ringo was bigger, his mum had always protected him from his father's wrath. Ringo was innocent and weak (he had something wrong with him, making him slow and 'special' as grownups liked to call it.) So, of course, Mum would be the one to try to take on the big man. Hell, Ringo was two years older than Paul, but Paul was always the one protecting him.

There was silence again, and then the slamming of a door. Ringo's dad was leaving. Everything was fine. Paul and Ringo waited until they heard the car leave the driveway, and they ran downstairs.

Ringo's mom was on the ground, looking a little dazed. Ringo ran to her and wrapped her in his arms. "Mummy, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, honey," She said, "He just gave me a few bruises.", She looked up at Paul who had been standing on the last step, then back to her son.

"If- If you're okay, I think i'm going to go to Aunt Louis's house for a few hours. Try to sort some things out, alright?"

Ringo nodded, squeezing her hard one last time, before she got up to leave. Once she had left the room, Paul looked at Ringo's face. It had been dark in Ringo's room, so he didn't see all of the damage.

Ringo's eye was bruised and bleeding. His nose was probably broken, telling by the shape, and was gushing blood. His lips were swollen and cut. His neck and bruises that resembled hands wrapping around it, and his shirt was soaked in blood. His hair was thick with blood. But, through it all, Ringo gave Paul a genuine smile.

"Will you stay here, Paul?", Ringo's mom asked, walking back into the room, wearing a long coat and grabbing her purse.

Paul nodded and smiled, "Of course, Mrs. Starkey. You go get sorted, we'll be right here."

She smiled one last time, before walking out the door.

Once she was out of sight, Paul asked, "Can I carry you?"

Ringo looked up with wide eyes, "Really?"

"You- you just seem weak, is all," Paul said.

"You can carry me, Paulie," Ringo said, holding his arms up with a smile.

Paul smiled back, and wrapped his arms around Ringo's back, carrying him toddler style up the stairs, with Ringo's legs wrapped around his abdomen. Ringo giggled in Paul's ear, playing with the back of Paul's hair.

"To the bath?," Paul asked. Ringo nodded.

Paul took Ringo to the small upstairs bathroom, setting him down on the closed toilet. He grabbed a cloth and wet it. Then he got on his knees in front of Ringo and began to clean Ringo's face gently, dabbing his nose, eyes, and lips. Ringo sat perfectly still, even though Paul could see him fighting back a grin. Paul knew how much Ringo loved to be taken care of, something his father didn't do. And Paul was more than happy to.

Once Ringo's face was as good as it was going to get, Paul pulled at the hem of Ringo's shirt. "We're gonna have to take this off, Cuteness." Ringo nodded, and let Paul take off his shirt.

There were cuts on his stomach, and bruises on his chest. "Oh Ringsy, what did he do?" Paul asked rhetorically. Paul had been through this before. Every time Ringo's step dad went on one of his fits, Paul always came over and doctored Ringo back to health. Each time, it killed him inside.

"Paul", said Ringo, his voice breaking. Paul looked up and saw that Ringo was crying.

"No, honey," Paul said, "Don't cry. He's gone now. I'm right here, I always will be, and i'll take care of you, I'll keep you safe with me forever. I want you to know that. I'll keep you safe." Paul placed a hand on Ringo's cheek, wiping away tears. "Please, stop crying. God, Ringsy, please." Paul didn't know what to do. Ringo usually cried, of course, but it was different this time. Ringo cried of pain most of the time. This one was of vulnerability, and it was much more than a few sniffles. He was full on bawling his poor eyes out. So Paul did the first thing that came to mind. He kissed Ringo's lips.

It wasn't a proper snog, just a peck on the lips. But it was enough to get Ringo to stop wailing. Paul immediately pulled away, showing a wide eyed Ringo, sniffling and hiccuping. Paul smirked, running his hand through the smaller boy's hair.

"We should get you cleaned up, how about a bath?," Ringo blinked, taking a second to reply.

"Can I have bubbles?", wide eyed and hopeful.

Paul giggled, moving to start the water, "Of course you can, baby."

Ringo squealed, jumping up to remove his pants. Paul blushed, looking away. He sighed, this was going to be along night.

Eventually Paul had gotten the water to the perfect temperature for his boy. He stopped the water, turning around to find a naked Ringo standing obediently with his hands behind his back. Paul stared at him, seeing the cuts and bruises littering the younger boy's body. They just looked wrong on the perfect porcelain skin of Ringo.

"It's ready, sweaty," Paul said, holding his hand out.

Ringo smiled excitedly while taking his hand and being helped into the warm water, (Which Paul had placed a yellow submarine bath toy in. It had been Ringo's favorite bath toy since he could remember.) Paul could see Ringo physically relax the second he was submerged in the bubbly warmth. He smiled, looking at the smaller (but older) boy play with the bubbles and splash around. Eventually, though it was time to actually get clean. Paul grabbed a clean rag, dipping it into the soapy water, and started washing Ringo's arms and the top of his knees where they stuck out of the water. Then he rolled up his sleeves and stuck his hand under the water. He washed Ringo's legs and ran the cloth over his cock, resisting the urge to stroke Ringo to hardness and then keep going until he came in the water. But Ringo was too innocent for Paul's dirty ways.

"You really need some new friends, Ringsy," Paul said, cutting through the sound of Ringo laughing and playing in the water, "You're too good for a hoodlum like me."

Ringo stopped playing and shook his head, looking at Paul, "You're not a hoodlum. You're the nicest person I know, Paulie. You're my friend and only friend besides mum, but I guess she don't really count, eh? No one else likes me, anyway."

"Well, they're mental. I don't see how people don't like you," Paul said, wetting Ringo's hair with the cloth. Blood came out of his hair in globs. Once it was free of most blood, Paul put shampoo in Ringo's hair and began to lather. "Because I love you, you know. I love you so so much, Ringo."

"I love you too, Paulie," Ringo said, and then he looked down at his hands, which were messing about nervously.

"It's okay, Ringo. Don't be nervous about who you love," Paul said. "It doesn't matter what your step dad says. He's a dumb ole' git anyway. It's okay to be queer,"

Ringo looked up at Paul and smiled, "It is?"

"Yep."

"Good, because I love you."

Paul laughed, and washed the shampoo from Ringo's hair. Once Ringo was clean, Paul offered to take him to bed.

"No, I want to sit here a bit longer, while it's still hot," Ringo said. After a pause he said, "Do you like bubbles, Paulie?"

"Sure," Paul said tiredly, leaning his face against his hand. His eyes felt like they'd drop at any moment. But right now, he wanted to please Ringo.

Ringo grinned wickedly, and then pulled Paul into the tub. Paul shouted and tried to break free, but Ringo held tight. It's not like Paul couldn't push him off with little effort, but Paul promised himself and Ringo to never hurt the smaller boy.

"Oh my God, Ringo!", Paul laughed, "Look at us!"

Both boys were squeezed into the small tub, and the floor was soaked and Ringo was laughing wildly and bubbles were everywhere. "You're a silly goose, you know that right?" Paul asked, sighing.

Ringo nodded, "But you said you loved me, and you can't take it back."

"I'd never," Paul said, standing up in the tub. He peeled off his soaking winter jacket, leaving him in only a shirt and his pants. He wanted to take them off, because they were sticking to him grossly, but he didn't want to make it awkward for Ringo. He went to sit down, but Ringo said no.

"You need to take off your clothes! You can't be in the bath in clothes. And you say _I'm_ the silly goose!"

Paul laughed awkwardly, but took his clothes off anyway. He tried not to notice Ringo staring at him, and sat down. Ringo smiled, and took some bubbles in his hands and leaned over and blew them gently, sending them onto Paul's chest. Paul giggled and put some bubbles on Ringo's chin.

"I'm Santa!," Ringo said with a laugh.

"You're much cuter than Santa," Paul said.

"And you're really hot," Ringo said, then blushed. "Sorry. I heard my mum talking about how she thought this one bloke was hot, and told me it meant they were really good looking. So, I guess you're hot, too. Sorry."

"No, no," Paul said, leaning toward Ringo. "It's okay. I like it when you compliment me."

"I like it when you call me Cuteness," Ringo said, "And I liked it when you kissed me."

"Oh, so you did, Cuteness?" Paul asked, reaching out and running his hand on Ringo's shoulder. "Can I do it again?"

Ringo nodded. Paul smiled and pulled Ringo onto his lap. Ringo giggled, but only for a second because Paul was kissing his neck. Ringo let out a sigh. Paul wrapped his arms around Ringo's waist and ran his tongue over Ringo's throat. "You're so pretty, Ringsy. My pretty Cuteness."

Ringo giggled, and pulled Paul away from his neck. "Kiss my lips, not my neck, silly!"

"Oh, but, Ringo," Paul grunted, "I want to kiss you all over."

Ringo whined, "You can, Paul. Later. I promise, but now I want you to kiss my mouth."

Paul chuckled and removed his lips from Ringo's neck. "Fine, but i'm remembering that promise of kiss you all over."

Ringo nodded, "I don't break promises."

Paul smiled, and moved his hands to the back of Ringo's neck and played with the hairs there. Ringo giggled, then grunted.

"Patience," Paul said. He then placed kisses to the corners of Ringo's mouth. Before Ringo could complain, Paul put Ringo's upper lip between his own and sucked on it gently. Ringo hummed, and leaned into the kiss. He sucked on Paul's lower lip, following Paul's lead. Paul ran his hands over Ringo's back and shoulders.

Ringo hissed. Paul had hurt on of Ringo's cuts. He pulled away from the kiss to apologize, but Ringo put his hands on Paul's shoulders and pulled him back to Ringo's lips. Paul didn't even stop, but kept kissing Ringo with as much passion he could muster while still being gentle.

Paul ran his tongue over Ringo's bottom lip. Ringo moaned, and slid his tongue out and licked Paul's. Paul moaned and gripped Ringo tighter. Paul slid his tongue into Ringo's mouth and licked his teeth. Ringo moaned and ran his tongue on Paul's. Paul sucked on Ringo's tongue, and Ringo sighed.

Ringo pulled away, gasping."Paul, I like kissing you."

Paul chuckled, "I like kissing you, too."

"But I _really _like kissing you," Ringo said slowly, and then looked down. Paul followed his eyes and saw exactly what Ringo meant.

Ringo was hard, and his head was peeking out of the water. Paul grinned and looked back up at Ringo.

"You're so pretty," Paul said and began to kiss Ringo again. Ringo kissed back, but this kiss wanted more and was full of lust. Paul's hand drifted down to the water and gripped Ringo's cock. Ringo gasped and pulled away.

"Paul!", he said, and looked into Paul's eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna make you feel good, Cuteness," Paul said.

Ringo looked a bit scared, but when Paul began to stroke him a little, he began to relax.

"More," Ringo said, "More, Paulie, more."

Paul fist went faster and rapidly, and he twisted his wrist and squeezed in all the right places. Ringo moaned wantonly and whined.

Paul attached his lips to Ringo's neck, over a bruise. He knew Ringo's dad would never notice a love bite after one of his wild nights, it'd seem like he'd put it there.

"Paulie, Paulie!" Ringo shouted, and bucked into Paul's hand. Paul licked over Ringo's collarbones and nibbled. "Please keep going!"

Paul felt Ringo's cock twitch, and he knew he was close. He licked Ringo's lips once, and Ringo was cumming.

"Ungh, Paul!", Ringo screamed, and arched his back. Once he calmed down, he smiled dopily at Paul. "Thank you."

"Your welcome."

Paul shifted a little, until he had his hand around his own cock. Ringo watched as Paul got himself off in amazement. Paul grunted, "Oh, Cuteness." Then he came in his fist.

Ringo smiled and with shining eyes reached out and touched Paul's cock, which was still hard, but was slowly softening. Paul smiled and kissed Ringo's forehead.

"Paulie," Ringo said with a yawn, "I'm tired."

Paul pulled the plug and the water ran out. Paul dried Ringo off with a towel, and then wrapped one around each of their waists. Paul took Ringo's hand and led him to Ringo's room.

"Sit down on the bed and i'll find you something to wear, okay?"

Ringo nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Paul dug through the drawers. Eventually, Paul found a sweatshirt and boxers, handing them to Ringo.

After Ringo was dried and dressed, he stood there in his towel awkwardly.

"You can borrow some clothes and sleep here tonight if you want," Ringo said, climbing into the small bed.

Paul smiled, finding some pants and throwing them on. He gently lifted the covers and crawled in next to the smaller boy. Once they were both lying down, Ringo burrowed his face into Paul's chest, and they both fell asleep. Not caring if Ringo's dad would find them the next morning, only caring about each other. They made a wordless promise to never leave each other.

**The ending sucked, i'm so very sorry :(**

**Please R&R! :3**


End file.
